


Your Every Need

by Path



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 03:01:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Path/pseuds/Path
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The edocharei attend to their Emperor's every need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Every Need

Maia sinks into the tub after a long, gruelling day with a sigh he cannot contain. It is bitterly cold outside and he has felt stiff with it since he dressed in the morning. The water is very hot, blissful, and he is pitifully grateful for it. The touch of Nemer’s deft fingers taking his hair down is just as good, and Maia relaxes into his touch. They have stripped the elegant ornaments out already, so now it is just the pins that held it in perfection. Nemer makes quick work of it.

“If you would tip your head back, Serenity,” he directs, and Maia follows. It is one of the only parts of the day he is not expected to take charge, to know what he wants and when. While the embarrassment of having three people to dress, undress, bathe and clean him has not abated, he cannot help but cling to this time, when he can stop driving himself forward and submit to their attentions. Nemer holds the back of his head and dips him further into the wonderfully hot water; he feels the tips of his ears twitch with the heat as they submerge. Clever fingers unbind his hair in the water, allowing it to spring back to its natural curl. It is a wonderful relief; Maia pities his edocharei having to try to train it into submission every day, when even his hair was never meant to undergo the strains of being Emperor.

Nemer washes and rinses Maia’s hair without getting a speck of the soap in Maia’s eyes. It has a lovely scent, like peppery black tea, and Maia can smell it still when he sleeps, lingering in the cool air. Nemer does not suggest Maia get out of the tub, for which he is absurdly grateful; the edocharis merely begins to dry Maia’s hair while he soaks. After a few minutes, Maia is nearly asleep in a haze of exhaustion and blessed heat, and it takes him a few moments to notice Nemer’s hands combing through his hair. He often uses some ornate, ruthless comb to tame Maia’s curls, but tonight he only finger-combs them. It is funny, Maia thinks, for his comb at Edonomee usually ended up in Setheris’ use, and Maia often combed and braided without it. It could never have felt this good, though; Maia never knew the trick of coaxing pleasure out of the task. 

His fingers drift to Maia’s scalp, working in whatever faintly-scented cream or oil he usually applies to soften Maia’s wiry curls. Nemer’s fingers are wonderfully gentle, coaxing the strain out of Maia’s neck and easing the dull headache he has in nearly all his waking hours. After some time the strokes begin to change from being merely gentle; at first Maia is happy to lose himself in the sparks of heat that Nemer’s massage start in him, but soon he snaps to consciousness, beginning to feel his cock pull and twitch to the strokes. It tenses him again; soon he will need to get out of the bath, and as humiliating as it is having three men tending to drying and dressing him, it would be so much more so with an obvious cockstand that Maia flushes painfully thinking of it.

Perhaps Nemer feels it; certainly his fingers slow from Maia’s neck. “Serenity, you must relax,” he says softly.

“We are fine,” Maia says automatically, trying not to snap it. “We are only tired. Give us some time alone and then we shall sleep.” Some time alone, Maia thinks bitterly; he had more time to himself at Edonomee, and if he needed to relieve himself of some unexpected desire, he at least had enough privacy for that. But there is no time he might do so now, and the thought of touching himself within the gaze of edo- and nohecharei disgusts him.

He expects Nemer to murmur an agreement and sweep out of view for a moment or two, he expects to have to wrestle himself back under control and subdue the petty pleasure Nemer’s touch has woken in him. He does not expect Nemer to bend close to his ear, and he certainly does not expect to hear his soft invitation, “Serenity, if you do not think it too bold, may we not remind you it is our pleasure to attend to your needs- your _every_ need. We are at your disposal.” 

It is all Maia can do not to sit bolt upright in horror. He could not- he could never- “We… we could not take advantage of you,” he finds himself saying, and wants to bury his face in his hands. “We understand the extent of your duties and would never think to… to _exploit_ you in them.” For who could say no if the Emperor ordered it? Nemer’s choice in the matter would be practically nonexistent.

Nemer bows deeply. “Of course, Serenity,” he says, and Maia is relieved to hear the lack of offense in his voice. “But… Serenity, we fear you have lost all the comfort we may have given earlier. Allow us to assist you; otherwise we fear we would not be doing our job.” Maia still feels the little shocks of fear and nerves, but at least it is not humiliating desire; embarrassment has done much to scrub away the beginnings of lust. “Just lie back again, Serenity, and allow us to help you.” Maia cannot ignore the faint edge of amusement or annoyance in Nemer’s voice. “And tell us, of course, should Your Serenity wish us to stop.”

So Maia complies, for what sort of petulant child would he be to throw Nemer’s service back in his face? He sits back obediently, water warm over his shoulders, and feels Nemer’s hands, lower this time, sweeping softly down Maia’s neck to shoulders and spine. It is not enough to make him hard again, but he begins to feel pleasantly relaxed once more.

In time, Avris and Esha join them, though Maia is only dimly aware of it; soothed once more into fuzzy complacency by Nemer’s touch. They help him from the tub and dry him gently, thoroughly, then direct him to a soft couch kept inside the bathing room. They have not given him a robe or towel and Maia is extremely conscious of it, but they merely help him to lie on his front there. A brief, nearly wordless conference, and they divide; Nemer remains at Maia’s shoulders, Avris his back, and Esha his feet, and they begin to massage him, hands smooth with yet another beautifully-scented cream. 

It is intensely pleasurable, and Maia has no kind words for himself- he is hard and _whimpering_ at their touch in the space of a few minutes. Nemer’s hands are familiar and gentle on his shoulders and neck. Avris presses deeply along Maia’s spine and sweeps his hands nearly to Maia’s buttocks. Maia wants to push into it, and it is brutally difficult to stay still. Esha’s hands are firm on his feet as if he has done this a thousand times; the press of his thumbs into the soft arch draws an ache to Maia’s groin. Surely it is not designed to invoke his lust as it has, but his cock is twitching and hard and pressing into the soft couch. It is all he can do not to rut against it like an animal. Maia cannot force it down and he cannot tell them to stop. It is too good and he needs it too much.

But he must- he will not force the same embarrassment on these men that he feels. When they slow and clearly mean to flip him over, he shakes his head, sure they can see the horrible flush on his cheeks and ears. He is about to object, to suggest- to suggest they leave, he supposes, and let him claw his way back to some semblance of decency before they are forced to touch him again.

But Nemer catches his eye before he can say anything. “Serenity, do you wish us to stop?” he asks. 

Avris chimes in behind him, so softly that Maia nearly misses it- “Must we?” Then Maia can see it, what he was too tired or stupid to see before. Avris’ face is bright pink, out to his ears, Nemer’s mouth is hanging a little open as he tries to control his breathing, and Esha merely waits, looking at him with such open desire that Maia almost shies from it.

“Please, Serenity,” Nemer says, always the first to speak. “Allow us.”

Maia cannot resist further. He does not need to say it; Nemer’s keen eyes pick up his capitulation immediately. They turn him over without another word, and cannot keep their hands off him. Nemer takes one of his hands- his own are smooth with that same cream, and slide between his fingers easily. Esha’s hands trail up from Maia’s feet to his thighs, stroking the soft inner side, and Avris plays his pale fingers over Maia’s stomach and hips. It feels as though he has been submerged by a wave of brilliantly hot water; their attentions wash over him in a flood. He gives himself up to them, and to what is clearly not merely their duty, but their pleasure.

Nemer is not just massaging his hand now but kissing it, licking between Maia’s fingers and taking them in his mouth. He sucks on them, clearly blissful and entranced, and Maia wonders distractedly what about him Nemer could possibly worship. Esha is half between Maia’s legs on the low couch, and his fingers slide so close to Maia’s balls and buttocks that he whines with anticipation. Then Avris’s palm presses against his tip, and Maia nearly bucks into it. It is dripping and wet already, and Avris moves his hand in small circles, drawing in the clear seed on his palm. 

Nemer is kissing up his arm to his shoulders; he does not quite bite or suck there, but Maia can feel his teeth faintly against the sensitive skin of his neck. Avris’s hand is on his shaft, slick with Maia’s early seed, and he strokes there slowly and deliberately. And then Esha is _licking him_ , tongue hot between Maia’s legs. Esha moves Maia’s leg easily, hooking a hand around one thigh; Maia feels spread and open beneath them.

They act totally in concert without apparent need for conference, and Maia finds himself wondering what their employment was before they came to serve him. Avris ducks his head to take Maia into his mouth. The heat is better than anything until Nemer breathes a soft, “May I?” into Maia’s ear. He nods quickly, though he’s no idea what he’s consented to, and moans openly when Nemer kisses him, deep and wet.

Avris and Esha are… not quite fighting over Maia’s cock, but both are mouthing it now, tongues and lips and the buzz of their moans incredible. When Nemer breaks and begins sucking at Maia’s ear, Maia looks down to see two heads, one dark, one light. They almost seem to forget about Maia for a moment- Esha laces his fingers into Avris’ immaculate hair and pulls him into a kiss. It is open and wet and exposed, and they do it with Maia’s cock very nearly between them. A wave of desire washes Maia, and he has to suppress an orgasm, almost overwhelmed.

Nemer gives Avris a sharp rap on the arm and an annoyed look, and the two of them switch places. Now it is two dark heads at his hips, Nemer and Esha’s mouths moving on his shaft, and Avris losing himself in kisses, biting Maia’s lower lip and moaning. Esha’s hand, Maia thinks, is the one stroking between his legs, sliding back to insistently circle Maia’s hole. 

He cannot possibly last, deluged as he is. He cannot control his voice- or indeed, anything else- but his moans escalate into short voiced cries and then he is coming, and Nemer ducks his head to take Maia in to his throat as Maia spurts uncontrollably. He rocks into Nemer’s mouth, against Esha’s insistent strokes, until there is nothing left of him.

They part from him at last, once they have seemed to coax every drop from him with their clever mouths. Then they clean him, gently wiping the sweat away with damp cloths, pressing kisses to his skin before running the towel over it. Maia thought it would be too much after what they have done, but they are patient and gentle with him. Before he knows it, he is in his nightgown and bundled into bed like any other night.

“Goodnight, Serenity,” says Nemer from his bedside, and they all bow.

Maia cannot really thank them, and he is so tired he does not think he could return the favour they have given him… and besides, they do not seem to expect it. “What about you?” he has to ask, all the same.

Avris flushes again, and Esha clings to his arm. They all look flushed and aroused, actually, hair disordered and mouths red and wanting. “If it pleases your Serenity,” Nemer says, “we will take care of ourselves.” 

And apparently there is nothing more to say, for they bow and make their way out, and for a few moments Maia tilts his head back into his pillow and thinks of the three of them setting on each other as soon as they have a shred of privacy. It is a delicious thought, and one he would savor, if sleep did not claim him almost immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope they go back to their quarters and roleplay that one of them is maia


End file.
